


Orci Amplius Obiectam

by erosorcus



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Bondage, Colonist (Mass Effect), Creampie, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/F, F/M, Forced, Heavy Angst, Humiliation, Mentions of Breeding, Other, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Scarification, Slavery, Tentacle Rape, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2020-10-21 03:06:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20686484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erosorcus/pseuds/erosorcus
Summary: For the Mass Effect kinkmeme prompt: "Shepard and her LI (be that Garrus or Thane) are captured by mercenaries/rogue Cerberus agents/whoever and their captors threaten to gangrape Shepard unless the LI takes her in front of them. Having no other choice, the LI agrees. Bonus points for writing the aftermath - Shepard's rage and helplessness and the intense guilt the LI feels over what happened, viewing himself as a rapist despite having been as much of a victim as her. Bring on the angst, anon!"This is gonna be a long one.





	1. Chapter 1

A violent coughing fit woke Thane back to conscious, combined with the horrible ache all over his body. His hands clenched and he tugged only to find them cuffed behind his back. There were better ways to wake up.

He struggled to sit up and take a deep breath. His lungs ached, constricting almost in protest. Not too far away, he could hear water dripping, and he could feel the weight of the humidity in the room. Heavy, unmoving, suffocating.

Once upright, his back to the wall, he took the chance to survey his surroundings and try to distract himself from the pain. Dark gray walls with neon blue lights at the corners, dirty, dark floor, a glass wall. On the other side of the wall, all he saw was part of the hallway.

To his right, much to his relief, was Shepard. She was still out. A large bruise covered the side of her face, and a dark, angry red line marred her lip from where it was busted. Neither was more concerning than the fact her armor was gone, and she was left in only her under garments.

He tugged against his restraints, despite knowing it was pointless.

Shepard was the only person in the cell with him, meaning their other companion might have gotten away. Kasumi was a stealthy individual, and intelligent enough that he trusted her to be able to help them. As dark as the situation looked, he was confident things would not remain as they were for long.

They just had to endure until then.

Shepard groaned and her head rolled to the side. Her brows scrunched together as she started to come to consciousness. He watched as her arms flexed, as she realized she was bound like he was. Her eyes shot open. Panic. Anger. Fear.

Her eyes met his. _Relief_. He almost wanted to say she worried too much, but in this situation, he could not fault her too much.

“Thane…” Shepard exhaled, then tugged again, the muscles in her arms flexing as she did. “Fuck. Where—Fucking Batarians… Where the fuck is my—Never mind. Are you alright?”

Thane nodded, glancing off in the direction of the dripping water. He couldn’t see it, but the sound was incessant.

“Finally awake, are you?” Thane’s attention snapped to the glass wall. A pale Batarian leaned against the glass, his mouth curled into a twisted smirk. “Commander fucking Shepard. Never thought I’d get to see you like this.”

“Keep staring, I’ll make sure it’s the last thing you ever see.” There was a bite to her voice. There often was when she was dealing with Batarians, but not like this.

The memory crashed into him. Calloused hands shaking, gaze to the floor. Her voice trembles just the barest bit, almost unnoticeable. _“I was sixteen,”_she says. _“Batarian slavers. The people they didn’t take, they killed. I was lucky.”_

Thane shut his eyes and exhaled. Her words echoed on a loop in his mind. _I was lucky._

“Boss hasn’t decided what to do with you, yet,” the Batarian said. “But I’ve got a few ideas.”

“I’m sure you do,” Shepard said with a snort.

The Batarian chuckled and walked away. A few moments later, a door on the other side of the cell opened and he stepped in with an overly confident swagger. Gun on his left hip, hand on his belt. He walked past him, ignoring him entirely, and knelt in front of Shepard.

“You look so small without your armor,” he said. Thane clenched his hands into fists and sneered. “Are all humans so fragile?”

“I’ll fucking show you fragile.”

The Batarian laughed, grabbing her foot as she tried to kick him. Thane watched her eyes narrow and just barely caught her attention. He gave her a slow nod, a silent agreement made between them, and watched as she slammed her foot into the Batarian’s palm.

While Shepard distracted him, Thane shifted and got on his back, then rocked and shifted his arms until his hands were now in front of him. He could hear her throwing insults and curses, providing cover in the best way she could now. He couldn’t help smirking, just a little. They worked well together, and had from the moment they met.

Shepard’s words died and were replaced with a choked sound. Thane’s attention snapped over to see the Batarian’s hand on her throat, barely an inch between them. Her foot pressed against his abdomen, but it did little good in the position she was in. Thane lunged forward, then brought his hands over the Batarian’s head and down to bring his forearm against his throat.

“Let her go.”

The Batarian released her throat and held his hands up, keeping them visible.

“Now, now, no one has to get hurt,” he said. “I just wanted to see what it was like.”

Before Thane could say anything, the Batarian slammed his head back against him, hitting him square in the chest and sending him flat on his back, bringing him with him. Another coughing fit ripped through his chest, sending a crawling, creeping pain from his sides to his lungs and up his throat.

He could taste blood, filling his mouth, as the Batarian maneuvered his arm in his moment of weakness, and freed himself.

“Thane!” He heard Shepard shout. ““You son of a bitch!”

“Drell are such miserable creatures,” the Batarian said, though he barely heard him over his own coughing. “Maybe I should put this one out of his misery.”

“Don’t you fucking _dare_lay a hand on him,” Shepard _growled_. “Or I’ll personally pluck out all four of your eyes and fucking feed them to you.”

At that, the Batarian laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long on this! Life got in the way. Thank you all so much for the encouragement while I've been gone!

Shepard growled and sneered, half feral, as she was dragged down the hall by the four-eyed bastard. Divide and conquer was his strategy now, without thinking about how deadly she could be on her own. Not that it mattered much, not with Thane’s life on the line. If he was there and alive, he was leverage.

Damn her weakness, damn her vulnerability.

“We’ll calm you down real quick,” the Batarian said as he pulled her in front of him then shoved her forward into the room. She stumbled, then fell when someone kicked her leg out from under her.

She struggled to get onto her knees, only to be pulled up by her hair. Her hands flew up to try and grasp the offending arm, fingers scrambling for purchase against inhumanly _dry_ skin. Her stomach twisted and she looked around the room to see three other Batarians, all staring at her.

“Boss’ll get pissed if he finds out,” one said.

“So he just won’t find out,” said a second one.

“Besides, you really gonna pass up on a human?” said the one holding her hair. “Best fucks in the galaxy next to asari.”

“Asari don’t have as much fight in them,” said the second Batarian that spoke up. “But this bitch? Oh, I could have fun for days with her.”

The other Batarian that hadn’t spoken up simply stared at her with dark eyes. Somehow, even as the other three schemed and talked as if she weren’t there, he was the more terrifying one. It was a struggle to not just try to run under his twisted gaze.

“You wanna start, Agen?” the first Batarian asked as he started to undress. Shepard looked away.

She heard the other Batarian’s footsteps; heavy and pointed against the dark metal floor. Chains rattled at his hip, clinking with his uneven gait. Then she heard the telltale sign of a _knife_ being brought out. Her head snapped over and in the dim light, she could catch the glare of the blade’s sharp edge.

“Agen’s old fashioned,” said one of the other Batarians. She wasn’t sure which one; her attention was fixed on the knife.

Liberation could be at hand, if she could just get her hands on that blade.

Agen gripped her chin and made her look up into his eyes. No emotion met her there, nothing whatsoever. Just a dark stare that seemed to pierce into her and make it difficult to breathe.

“We met once before,” he said, his voice low and deep. It seemed to reverberate off the walls. “On Mindoir.”

If she thought about it, maybe she would remember his face.

“You had your father’s shotgun,” he said as he brought the edge of the blade to caress her cheek. “You took your first life that day.”

Shepard squeezed her eyes shut as she tried, for the first time, to actively remember the events of that day. All she could bring forth were the screams and the smoke that filled the air. It was a struggle to keep her breathing even, to not _panic_ from the bitter memory that threatened to consume her all over again.

“You killed my son,” he growled as the knife bit into her jaw. It was sharp, and the act was quick, but within in an instant, she felt blood drip down from the cut. “I never thought I’d have the chance to make you pay for that.”

“You killed my family,” Shepard growled. “I think, if anything, I should be the one making you pay.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Agen said as he let go of her chin and she felt the knife run down the hollow of her throat to her bra. “Because your kind are worth so much less than one of us.”

“I find that hard to—“ Shepard stopped, her eyes shooting open as the knife tore open her bra. She knew it was coming, expected it, but it was so different to expect it, and then for it to happen. Her heart raced as panic started to creep in.

“It looks like I found a way to silence the good Commander.”


	3. Chapter 3

Every minute Shepard spent out of his sight added fuel to the fire burning inside his chest, even as an acidic rot ate away at his gut. An ache filled his lungs and malaise took hold of him; his poison was slowly determined to make this struggle all the worse.

_Drip… Drip… Drip…_

As if his pain were not enough, the constant dripping of water as the only sound echoing through the cells was maddening.

She had been so enraged for his own safety and careless for hers. To call her frustrating, in that regard, was to use the kindest descriptor. They often danced this dance, one worrying too much for the other, throwing away regard for their own wellbeing and safety. The difference was, _he_ could afford to do that, while so many people depended on _her_ that losing her would affect more than just him.

Thanks to her, yes, he no longer welcomed death as readily, but he still had made his peace with it long ago. Even before he became ill, death was an inevitability for him. The loss of Irikah drove that point home harder than anything else, and for so long, he…

Thane shook his head. It was better not to get lost in his own mind, let alone his memories. Not right now.

Right now, he needed to find a means of escape.

Laughter interrupted the constant dripping and Thane felt a solid block of ice form in his chest, stretching through his lungs and his veins, sinking into his gut. Laughter, from these Batarians, likely meant nothing good. He held his breath, eyes fixed to the wall outside the cell as he waited.

First he saw a pair of Batarians, one in armor and the other in pale red casual clothing. They passed by him with no regard to his existence, and behind them, they dragged Shepard, her hands bound in front of her, her head down, naked. At that, he felt the fire in his chest burn anew and he struggled to keep still, to wait and see where they were taking her.

Water dripped off her hair, taken down from the ponytail she wore day to day, and down her skin. As she realized she came into his line of sight, she turned her head away. New bruises marked her arms, her stomach, her breasts, her thighs.

A few moments later, the door opened and she was shoved into the cell. She groaned and collapsed to her knees, hair in her face. On her shoulder, blood trickled from a carving. _N7._

He was at her side in less than a moment, brushing the hair from her face. Cold water slid down his fingers as she lifted her head to look up at him. Anger burned behind her eyes, more pure and unfiltered than he had ever seen it before.

“When we get out of here, I’m not letting any of them walk away,” she _growled_, her tone dark. “I’m washing this place with their _blood_.”

Red seemed to glow in her eyes, for just a moment, bright and near frightening.

“Shepard…” The name left him in a pained whisper, before he watched her eyes go wide and he was pulled away from her. The Batarians lifted him off the floor effortlessly, leaving him to kick and fight in their grasp.

“Let him go!” Shepard screamed. He watched her struggle to her feet, watched the blood slide down her arm, watched as one of the Batarians shoved his foot against her stomach and sent her sprawling back.

He struggled and fought, thrashing to get them to loosen their grips, his hands balled into fists. Bound as he was, being dragged away from her as he was, there was little he could do but watch her lay face down on the ground.

_A door left open, the dying light of sunset pouring inside the room. Chairs tossed about, and the couch ripped apart from the gunfire. An upturned table, Irikah’s body left facedown beside it. Blood pooling beneath her. Kolyat crying and begging, “Mama, wake up.”_

A shuddering chill wracked his body at the memory.

_“Wake up. Wake up. Wake up!”_

“Stay with us, Krios,” one of the Batarians said as they took him down the hall. He looked back, back at the door next to their cell that led to it. There must have been a small, L-shaped hallway from their cell to this hall.

There were only three or four cells total from what he could see, and doors at either end of the rather short hall. This facility must not have been built with prisoners in mind. In fact, if he thought about it, the style didn’t even look Batarian in nature.

It looked almost human.

The door at the end of the hall opened and he was taken into a dimly lit, massive room. Dozens of Batarians, Humans, Turians, Asari, and a few Quarians and Elcor milled about. In the corner, he even caught a glimpse of a bright colored Hanar with a Drell attendant.

“So this is Commander Shepard’s pet lizard,” said a human male as he approached. He looked a fair bit like Shepard, with the same hair and eye color, even the same shape of their jaws and the tilt of their noses. A scar crossed his face, and a burn marred his neck, and he kept his hair in a ponytail. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Sere Krios.”

Thane said nothing as he watched the man.

“My name’s Michael,” he said with a small smirk. “I’m the one who runs this little den of sin and indulgence. You two can let him go now, by the way. Thank you.”

The Batarians released him.

“Still silence, hm? That’s fine, I don’t need your words. Release his hands and guide him to the pit there, would you?” Michael said. One of the Batarians grabbed the back of his neck as the other freed his hands. He rubbed his wrists and tried to glance back at the one holding him. “I wouldn’t do anything suspicious, Krios. You wouldn’t want the good Commander to pay for it, later, would you?”

“What do you want from her?”

“Oh, he speaks!” Michael exclaimed with a clap. “That isn’t important to what I want from you. You see, one of your kind is very rare here. Only Embraces The Shadows has one and she’s a cute little thing, sure enough, but he doesn’t share.”

The Batarian holding his neck shoved him forward to get him to start walking, guiding him in the direction of a sunken in area in the middle of the room, something that went down to a lower level and blocked off with a fence. Michael waked beside them, stopping as they got to the ladder that led down into the pit. It wasn’t far down, but enough that climbing out without the ladder would be difficult at best, especially given the smooth walls.

“Wonder if he’d consider breeding the girl with you, hm? That could be nice. I wonder how many we could get off her…” Michael trailed off. “Regardless, you are now here to serve whatever purpose I want from you, and right now, I want to see how you perform. Korvan, if you will.”

Without another word, Thane was shoved into the pit, not even allowed to use the ladder to climb down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally picking up speed with this. Sorry for such a long wait! I am doing my best to make the chapters lengthy and meaty for you. I'm not outlining or having anyone beta read, just kinda going with the flow.
> 
> Also I fully admit to writing this with my FemShep in mind. If you've read Those Whom Walk This Dark Path by NyxEternal, that is my other account that I didn't quite want to put this on. I already have some fucked up stories on there, but I knew this would take a much darker turn than what's on there.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A harsh reality hits Shepard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief mention of watersports this chapter.

Shepard slammed her body into the door again and again, her blood smearing against the wall. Her blood. Bright, red, angry. Hell, at least it proved she was alive.

That had kind of been the point, though, hadn’t it?

_“I hear you’re more machine than human these days,” Agen had said as he played with the knife. She had spit in his face, earning her a punch to the gut. When she doubled over, he grabbed her hair and yanked her head up. “Shame Cerberus didn’t teach you manners, did they?”_

She shut her eyes and shook her head. The bite of the knife had been hot, angry. It took all she had not to scream from the pain as he carved her symbol of _pride_ into her body. Alliance Whore, he called her as he groped and tugged her breasts.

_His_, he had growled, when he took his cock out and stroked it between her breasts. He smeared her blood across her body, angry and bright, and choked her on his foul-smelling cock until she passed out. She woke up with fresh bruises and aches to ice cold water, washing off blood, cum and piss.

She sat with her back against the wall and exhaled slowly. She’d been through worse, that was what she told herself. Thresher Maws were worse. Fighting, surviving, watching everyone die. That had been worse.

Right?

Watching them drag Thane out _had_ been worse. When it was her taking the beating, she could be fine with that. She could take it. Thane was not her. He didn’t have the brutal N7 training behind him, or her experiences, and he was sick—

_“You can’t coddle him, Shepard,”_ Jacob had told her, once. _“Dying or not, he’s a grown man. He can take care of himself.”_

Shepard hit her head against the wall, again and again. She _didn’t_ coddle him. She was there for him, that was all. To protect him when things got a little out of control or more than he could handle.

This?

This was more than either of them could handle _alone_.

She lost all sense of time as it passed. The dripping water eventually stopped, leaving her in silence. No torture could have been worse.

In the silence, she heard the screams. Mindoir, Akuze. She heard the rending of metal and Sovereign’s horn. She heard Anderson ask after her, and the sickening silence that followed as she considered if it would be worth it to try to get up, or to succumb there. She had done her job, better than anyone could’ve asked her to.

Her hands twisted in the cuffs and she tried, again, with no success, to free herself from her bindings.

Her wrists ached and itched, her neck itched. Her body ached and her stomach twisted. They needed to get out of there, but how?

She tried to remember the room she had been in. Agen’s knife blocked most of it out, but she could dimly remember how blinding it had been. A door on both ends of the room, and a door to one side. Probably not her best route of escape.

But before they even thought of escape, they needed armor, weapons. A means of contacting the ship. Someone had to be looking for them, at least. Maybe they would get lucky, but she wasn’t going to bank on it.

The door behind her opened and she shuffled away just as they threw Thane’s limp body into the room.

“What did you do to him?” she demanded. One of the Batarians laughed as he grabbed her arm.

“You should worry more about yourself, _Commander_,” he said as he undid her cuffs. “Don’t fight back next time, and he won’t have to pay for it.”

Her blood turned to ice in her veins as they left her there with Thane, unconscious, but breathing. She could hear the familiar rattle of his breathing, and was all the more grateful for it this time. _He won’t have to pay for it._

Shepard shook her head and moved to Thane’s side. She, carefully, rolled him onto his back and lifted his head into her lap. Blood trickled down from his mouth, and there was a cut on his cheek. His hands looked rough, and his knuckles were cracked.

And, for the first time since Akuze, she felt genuine agony rip through her soul. She swallowed down the scream that burst through her chest, instead choosing to silently cry. He was paying for her actions, then?

But what could she do? Lay down and take the abuse, the humiliation? The more she fought, the closer he inched to death, she was sure of it.

His hand reached up and came to rest on the side of her face.

“Save your tears,” he told her. “I’m still here.”

At that, she let out a gasping sob and clutched his hand tight to her cheek.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael offers Thane a deal.

Thane didn’t know how long the two of them slept, Shepard curled into his side, the lights flickering off what he thought was hours ago. He just knew he awoke to her soft whimpers and her fingers clutching against his shoulder, her trembling body and sweat trickling down her skin. A litany of apologies spilled from her lips until he pulled her closer, tighter.

_“I was sixteen,”_ _she says. “Batarian slavers. The people they didn’t take, they killed. I was lucky.”_

_“I was lucky.”_

He knew Shepard well enough that he imagined, at some point, the scenario played out in her head of what her life would have been, to some degree, if they had captured her. Was it anything like this? Or did she decide, even then, she would rather die?

“Thane,” she moaned in her sleep. “Thane, I’m sorry, oh god, I’m…”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, squeezing his eyes shut.

The door opened and he held her tighter, ignoring the ache in his body that seemed to finally catch up to his wakefulness.

“Isn’t this cute?” the Batarian chuckled. “Time to—“

“No,” said another voice. Human. Michael. “Leave me.”

“Boss—“

“I gave you an order, Korvan,” he said. Thane heard the Batarian leave, his footsteps heavy enough to break the silence. The door closed.

Shepard shifted beside him, burying her face in his shoulder.

“I know you aren’t asleep, Krios,” Michael said. “And you’re likely wondering why I told Korvan to leave.”

Thane said nothing.

“My men want your pretty Commander,” he continued. “Impaled on their cocks and full of their cum until she’s begging for it, and nothing else. In fact, many of your spectators tonight would love to see such a sight.”

Thane’s grip around Shepard tightened.

“If you obey my every command, then I will keep them from raping her for a crowd,” he said. “But disobey, even once, and I throw her to those wolves ready to rip her apart. Do we have a deal?”

“Is this your plan for us?” he asked, finally.

“My plan is to make a profit off you,” Michael said. “But I’m not wholly a monster, as long as you do what you are told.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lovers put on a show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tentacle rape in this chapter. FINALLY SMUT THOUGH.

Shepard woke with her arms bound, tight, behind her back with rope, from elbow to fingertips. Rope wrapped around her breasts, her neck, her shoulders, her hips and thighs, all in intricate knots. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, but she had some mobility at least.

She looked around to see an interesting enough group; fewer Batarians, more of almost every other race she’d met so far, even a Hanar with a female Drell attendant. Shepard had to admit she found the attendant lovely enough, dressed in sheer pink fabric and shiny, pale silver jewelry contrasting against darker blue skin. Beside the Hanar stood a human man that she almost swore looked like her father had.

The human noticed her looking over and flashed her a smile, then turned away and motioned with his hand. A loud rumble silenced the din and chatter and everyone, including herself, looked to the center of the room. A platform rose up, caged off by glass.

Shepard felt her stomach twist when she saw him standing there, perfect posture as always, back to her. Two Batarians and a Turian stood in the pit with him, each armored, while he _wasn’t_. It became all too obvious this was not meant to be a contest of strength or a fair fight.

It was meant to be nothing short of murder.

And she was meant to _watch_.

“I am so glad you’re finally awake, Commander,” said the human as he approached. Shepard narrowed her eyes and struggled against the ropes. “They’re fairly tight, dear, I don’t think you’re getting out. Beside, you’ve got the best seat in the house.”

“Fuck you.”

“I think _not_,” he said with a laugh as he sat next to her. “Your pretty boy is quite the fighter, but you knew that already, didn’t you?”

“You’re trying to kill him in there.”

“Oh, nonsense. If I wanted to kill him, he’d be fighting far worse,” he said, waving away her concerns. “I’ve become quite fond of your boy there.”

“Let us _go_,” she growled. “And I might be convinced to not _kill_ you.”

“Oh, the great and powerful Commander Shepard might let me live?” he asked, feigning relief and shock all at once. “You aren’t going anywhere, beautiful. You belong to me, now.”

“I don’t belong to _anyone_,” she growled. “Least of all a disgusting piece of shit like you.”

“So be it,” he said as he turned back to see the arena. “Begin!”

One of the Batarians got the first hit in, slamming his fist into Thane’s stomach and shoving him back against the wall. Something was wrong, for him to be so slow to react, to start. Even sick as he was, Thane was agile, _quick_. What was going on?

She tried to clench her hands, and instead growled when she couldn’t, as she watched the three men take turns _beating_ him, and he didn’t even move once to defend himself.

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” the man beside her said. “I told him not to fight back.”

“You fucking bastard!”

“I told him if he did, we’d cut you,” he said, flashing her a grin. “And I’d let the Hanar over there fuck you. You see, he’s a bit of a fan of yours. I’m sure he’d let his pretty Drell join in. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Shepard?”

Shepard said nothing, her eyes fixed on the brutality behind the glass walls. The Turian slammed his elbow into Thane’s back, sending him sprawling to the ground coughing. She could hear the men laughing.

One of the Batarians lifted him up by his throat and pinned him to the wall. He did nothing. He let him choke him without putting up an ounce of fight.

“I’ll take whatever you want to do to me,” she said, taking a deep breath as the words left her lips. “Just get him _out_ of there.”

“Agen!” he called out. The Batarian came over, flashing her a smirk. “Knife. And please, get Sere Krios out of the arena. Maybe get him so medical attention. Proctus is having a _bit_ too much fun.”

“Of course, boss,” Agen said, handing his knife to the man. Shepard squeezed her eyes shut.

“Oh, and prepare a room for Embraces The Shadows,” he said as she felt the knife bite into her chest, just under her collarbone. It trailed down, between her breasts, then repeated on the other side. “And dearest Commander, how could I forget?”

He cut open the rope at her hands.

“I can’t have you hurting such an _esteemed_ guest,” he said as he slammed the blade into her wrist. She screamed, and somewhere, she heard Thane call out for her. “Athema will have this in case you get any ideas.”

Blood pooled into her twitching hand as she was dragged to her feet and forced to walk. She looked over to the arena to see the two Batarians carrying Thane. He fought and struggled, renewed with a desperate need to get to her.

And yet, he was held just out of reach, his grasping hands just in her sight. She didn’t bother reaching back, even if she could have with her arms still bound, with blood pouring from her fingers to the floor.

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

She was taken away from the arena, over to where the Hanar was with his attendant. Up close, she looked almost bewitching. While her skin was a dark blue, contrasted by the silver and pink she wore, her eyes were almost a glowing yellow, brighter than she had seen on any other Drell she met.

“I’ve brought you the greatest gift I could, if only for one night,” the human said. “I hope it does not disappoint.”

“This one is most delighted in your gift, Bacchus,” the Hanar replied, sounding more excited than she had ever heard a Hanar sound before. “This one cannot wait to show the good Commander how much this one admires her.”

“If she gives you any trouble, Athema, this is to keep her in line,” the human, Bacchus, said as he gave the Drell woman the knife. “I secretly think she likes it. Soldiers and all, only so long before they crave blood in the bedroom.”

“If our Commander wants, I will do whatever she asks,” Athema said, giving her a saccharine smile that looked so out of place on her, and didn’t meet her eyes. “It is an honor to play host to you, ma’am.”

“Agen’s prepared you a room, if you’ll please—“

“This one can hardly wait,” the Hanar said as one of his tentacles reached out to touch her face. “You are extraordinary, Commander.”

“You know, if you would be so inclined,” Bacchus said as he moved to stand next to Athema and face the arena. “You wouldn’t have to wait.”

“This one could consider it,” the Hanar mused. Athema looked away. “What do you get out of this deal?”

“Athema, for a night,” Bacchus said. “Failing that, I’ve speculated if you might want to open a breeding contract, seeing as my newest… Acquisition is of compatible stock.”

“You fucking asshole,” Shepard growled, struggling against her ropes again. “He doesn’t belong to you!”

“Is the assassin not Commander Shepard’s?” the Hanar asked. “This is a suitable arrangement, then.”

“No!” Shepard half-yelled, half-wailed. “I swear to fucking god I’ll gut you both when I get out of this.”

“Oh, Commander, don’t you realize?” Bacchus asked, smiling so sweetly at her. “No one is coming for you.”

Shepard only glared at him as she felt the course, rough hands of the female Drell on her shoulder, guiding her to the arena. She tried to resist looking at it, but soon, she couldn’t help herself. Blood splattered on the floor of it at some point, and on the walls. Thane’s blood.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She was doing this for him. To protect _him_. He would have been killed if she did not step in.

A door opened into the arena, one she hadn’t noticed before, and Athema guided her in. On her wrist, silver bangles jingled and chimed as they hit each other in a soft, almost pleasing note. In another life, maybe she would have liked to know her better.

“I have pleased Asari, Hanar, other Drell, and Batarians many times,” Athema said as the door closed behind the Hanar. “You will be the first human I have had the honor of pleasing.”

“There’s nothing you can do that could make this enjoyable,” Shepard hissed. “Let the stupid jellyfish take what he wants so this can be done and over with.”

Athema chuckled as she pushed her against the wall and kissed her, soft but demanding. Shepard squeezed her eyes shut, resisting the urge to melt into the hazy kiss, but god, after all she went through, a high felt so damn good. Then she felt those rough fingers slide down her abdomen to her mound, until those fused fingers of hers found her clit.

“Humans are built like Asari?” she asked as she broke the kiss, licking her lips. Her fingers rubbed, catching that sensitive nub and making her _writhe_. “That feels good, then?”

“St-stop, please—“ Shepard gasped. The Hanar wrapped a tentacle around her neck and her eyes shot open. Another tentacle teased her lips.

“This one would advise the good Commander to open her mouth,” he said. “Please.”

Shepard bit her bottom lip, eyes wide almost with _fear_ as the reality of her situation weighed on her. This Hanar and his attendant were raping her. In front of a crowd. She was Commander fucking _Shepard_. This sort of thing didn’t _happen_ to her. But it did. It was happening.

And she had volunteered, no less.

Athema’s fused fingers slid lower and pressed against her entrance, then forced inside her tight, dry hole. Shepard gasped and the tentacle at her lips thrust into her mouth, then down her throat, choking her. The one around her throat languidly stayed there as the Hanar thrust deep into her throat, making her gag, and Athema curled her fingers in a come-hither motion in her cunt, stretching her as best she could and trying to get her aroused.

“She’s so tight,” Athema gasped. “You might not fit.”

“This one is willing to try, Athema,” the Hanar said, shuddering as he spoke. “This one can hardly contain excitement. Athema, please.”

Athema nodded and started manipulating and moving Shepard’s body until she was on her knees, her shoulders pressed into the ground. The Hanar’s tentacle was still buried in her throat, but now her ass was exposed. Athema leaned over her back and spread her cheeks, and she swore she heard cheering in the crowd.

“I am sorry if she is not prepared enough.”

“This one does not mind,” the Hanar said as she felt a tentacle slide along her entrance. She shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut. “Athema, present yourself to the Commander.”

“Thank you,” the Drell said with a soft, humming trill of approval. Shepard’s face went warm as she remembered the first time she heard _Thane_ make that noise.

The memory was soon lost as the Hanar’s tentacle slid into her tight, barely stretched cunt. Athema released her, then slid so she was underneath her, her head between Shepard’s thighs and vice versa. When she opened her eyes, she was looking down at an, admittedly inviting, wet cunt.

“I would be very delighted, _Commander_,” she said in a way that sounded more like a demand than a request, just before she latched onto her clit and sucked _hard_.

Shepard whined, losing herself to the feeling of the Hanar thrusting into her with reckless abandon, deeper than anything had been inside her before. She could feel the tentacle easily touching her cervix, pressing and prodding, then squirming against her tight walls. She could do nothing as Hanar and Drell both devoted their attention to her, except obey Athema’s insistent command.

She gave a very tentative lick, tasting the Drell beneath her. The flavor was sweet, but almost like the smell of ink; heady and metallic, like poison. Thane’s pre-cum wasn’t so different, if she were telling the truth, but she had learned to adjust to enjoy the taste.

Of course, hearing him lose control had been her motivation for doing so.

Athema squirmed, then raised her hips to grind against her face to encourage her as she bit down on her clit. Drell women, apparently, didn’t have an equivalent part in that regard, not that she could easily find at least, leaving Shepard to effectively fumble in the dark, made no better by the drug-like haze. Still, she ran her tongue along the entrance of the cunt offered up to her.

Meanwhile, the Hanar fucked away at her cunt until, finally, the tentacle inside her stilled just inside her entrance.

And was joined by a _second_. The pair plunged deep into her, making her cry out in a gasping moan that knocked the air out of her. Athema grabbed her hips and braced her head with her knees, as if to hold her up.

“This one could stay buried inside you forever,” the Hanar said. “Come home with us.”

Shepard quickly distracted herself with Athema, plunging her tongue into her. She writhed on her tongue as she lapped away at her, then sucked on the edges of her entrance. The Drell whined and hummed, sending vibrations against her clit as she did, and in turn, making her writhe.

Both tentacles spread apart, stretching her cunt, as a third appendage thrust in. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she tried to clamp down, to no avail. The three appendages fucked her deep and fast, until one of them felt like it was swelling inside her, and suctioning onto her cervix.

Then she felt the Hanar explode inside her, his cum almost _icy_ in temperature. He pulled the third appendage out slowly, but held her open with the other two. Athema shifted and leaned up to lick, lap, and suck the cum out of her, devouring it like a starved animal.

“Bravo!” Bacchus called out. “But I know you’ve got more than one round in you, don’t you? And you’ve left the poor Commander on _edge_, look at her! She’s positively trembling.”

“This one can go much longer,” the Hanar said as one of the tentacles started to stroke her inner walls. “This one wants to paint the good Commander with this one’s essence.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thane is forced to do worse and worse. How much farther until he breaks?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to hell. That is all.

_Michael tosses me the rope. I look from him to Shepard, still asleep. “Tie her up,” he tells me. “Or I’ll have Agen do it.”_

_Soft skin, pale and damp. I don’t want to do it, but I know Agen would do worse. She says my name in her sleep, a quiet plea._

Thane shook his head and stared at the wall across from him, pale white; sterile. Beside him, a human doctor tended to the injuries he sustained from the arena. They were nothing compared to the ache in his chest; an unholy concoction of guilt and agony, of loss, misery, and memory.

They pulled him away from her. His hand had been reaching for the woman with her head bowed, blood still fresh on her arm. She barely looked at him. Ashamed, or maybe guilty herself.

“I’ll have to tell Bacchus to ease up on you,” the woman said. Red hair, green eyes, and a smattering of freckles. “He’s not used to one of your kind that’s sick. We just have Athema here, and she’s in top shape.”

“She should consider herself fortunate,” Thane said as he closed his eyes. Between the beating and the coughing fits and the _weight_ of everything he had endured so far, exhausted crept along his bones.

“Debatable, all things considered,” she said. “But that’s not my story to—“

The doors flew open and Athema was rushing alongside the Hanar, who was screaming about being bit. Thane watched the pair of them, and the woman, obviously the doctor, for several moments. For the first time since this whole ordeal started, he had been left unattended, free from cage and shackle.

And yet, the weight of it was too much to kick him into action.

Michael came in a few moments later and spoke to the doctor as she tended to the Hanar. Thane considered stepping into action then and there, but where would that get him? One dead human, and likely dead himself. Shepard would be alone, surrounded by people who wanted only to hurt her.

At least Michael offered some mediation.

“The Commander’s a fighter,” Michael said as he approached. “Almost as intense as you.”

“She is a warrior,” he said, glaring at Michael. _Siha_. “You made a deal.”

“And she couldn’t stand to watch you suffer,” he said with a shrug. “I’m an opportunist.”

Thane said nothing, his hands clenching into fists.

“Dr. Crawford, is he good to go back to his cell?”

“Hm? Yes, just go easy on him for a few days. Keep up at this pace, and he’ll be dead in three.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said as he held out his arm. “Come with me.”

Thane looked at the arm extended to him, and the thought crossed his mind again. It wouldn’t be _hard_ to hurt him, to kill him. But, again, she would be alone, trying to fight through this place until she could escape, or help arrived.

He had to endure, for her. Strong as she was, powerful as she was, she was one woman. While she had done so many extraordinary things since they met, even she had to rest, even she had her faults. Right now, she needed him.

He got off the table and stumbled alongside Michael for a few steps, but never touched him. He didn’t trust his hands not to act of their own accord right now. Meditation would have to see him through this, to keep his mind back on track.

“What would you do to keep her safe, I wonder?” Michael asked as they strolled back into the room with the pit. He desperately looked around for Shepard. “She’s already back in the cell, don’t worry. I haven’t let anyone else touch her.”

“You already know the answer to your question,” he said as he noticed a vent not too far from a set of stands. Reachable. “What do you want?”

“Truthfully? I think you’ve earned my candor, after all. You’ve performed more than satisfactorily,” he said, then sighed. “I want to watch her break. I want to see her crawl through the mud like I did, with a mouthful of blood, defiled and broken, with no hope.”

“What reason—“

“I was born on Mindoir, too.”

Thane fell silent. He wasn’t going to pry, or try to understand Michael’s aspirations. He wasn’t sure he _wanted_ to, now.

“She’s a god damned hero, and I was some Batarian’s pet,” Michael spat. “But, I am not wholly unreasonable. Freedom can be acquired.”

“With obedience.”

“You are a bright one,” he said, beaming at him. “Far smarter than she is. For all the good that will do you.”

Thane opened his mouth to speak, as they entered the hall to the cells, but Michael held his hand up. They approached the door that would lead to the cell he shared with Shepard, but Michael did not enter. He let his hand hover over the pad, then extended something out to him from his belt.

“You are to carve your own mark into her, wherever you want, I don’t care,” he said. “If you don’t, she’ll have this knife shoved somewhere unpleasant while I let some of my men have their fill of whatever hole _isn’t_ bloody.”

Thane felt his stomach twist into a knot as bile rose up in his throat.

“Obedience is survival, Sere Krios,” he said. “And you are an _obedient_ tool to be used. The perfect weapon against her.”

“I could take this and kill you.”

“You could,” Michael agreed. “But then you know what would happen if you did, don’t you? There would be nothing holding back the ravenous _beasts_ clamoring for blood and body from ripping the two of you apart for the fresh meat you are.”

Thane took the knife, his fingers closing around the hilt, the weight of it nothing compared to the weight it _carried_.

“I wish I could say someday you’ll understand, but,” he mused as he placed his hand over the console and pressed it. “Your time is short.”

Thane wanted to lunge at him, but again, fought the impulse. Gods, it was unbearable, to restrain himself like this. But what choice did he have?

He walked the hall to the cell door, suddenly aware of how long it was, and how short it was at once. Each step took a moment, but he walked them with the length of a year. He wanted to comfort her, but he did not want to see her.

The second door open and he saw her laying against the wall, staring at the ceiling. She was dripping from another bath or shower, or whatever it was they did to wash away their sins. _Forgive me._

Her attention turned to him, and he wasn’t sure if those were tears on her face, or just the water. He would pretend, for now, it was just water. She was stronger than that. An unbreakable pillar.

“You’re alright,” she said with a soft smile and a sigh of relief. She closed her eyes, as if even saying that had been too exhausting. “You’re alive.”

Thane said nothing as he approached and knelt next to her. She reached up and placed her hand on his leg. Her other hand had bandages around the wrist, stained dark red, and the fingers bent in.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her smile fading. “You’re probably… Gonna have it pretty rough thanks to me.”

“I will get through it,” he said, and she exhaled and smiled again, opening her eyes to look up at him. His heart skipped a beat as he found himself staring into her eyes, so hopeful, so _happy_ to see him. “I’m sorry, Shepard.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doubt creeps in.

_She stared down from the shuttle’s only window at the burning remains of Mindoir, the soldier’s hand on her shoulder trying to pull her away. But she had to stare. She had to watch, until it was just another dot on the surface of the planet._

_The screams haunted her, the gun still heavy and hot in her hand. “You were lucky,” one of the soldiers told her. “Not many survive raids like that.”_

_“Did you kill them?” she asked, in such a quiet voice she had to repeat herself. “Did. You. Kill. Them?”_

_“Most of them probably got away before we got here,” the soldier admitted. “I know sorry isn’t good enough—“_

_“You’re right,” she said, looking down at the gun in her hands. “It isn’t.”_

Shepard groaned as she rolled onto her side, then winced at the pain from her wrist. Wrong side. Then again, did anything _not_ hurt at the moment? Her whole body ached, from head to toe. The Hanar and his attendant had put her through her paces, and the carving her up nonsense did not help.

She raised her good hand to touch the fresh wound on her hip. She didn’t want to look at it, didn’t want to _know_ what it was. The man who held the knife was more than enough agony.

Fresh tears fell at the memory of how he wouldn’t even _look_ at her when he did it. He was ashamed. Try as she might, she couldn’t abate the anger that built up in her chest at him. His hand had been the one to carve into her, but she knew the action was not his own. It couldn’t be.

It couldn’t _ever _be. Not him. He would never. Right?

She tried to tell herself that, as she went over what she knew about him in her mind. It wasn’t a lifetime’s worth, and the time they spent together had not been the most domestic of eras. Maybe he was not as good a man as she thought, maybe he had been a monster to Irikah once, maybe this _wasn’t_ out of the realm of possibility, maybe—

So many maybes, but not of them equaled _her_ Thane. Not him. The poised assassin, yes, with hands soaked in blood from all kinds. But he also had been her light, the first splash of color in a dark and lonely world in so long.

This was a trick. A trap to break her down. And so far, she was falling for it.

“They’re trying to divide us, make it easier to break us,” she said. Thane said nothing. “Make us doubt each other, turn us against each other so we destroy ourselves.”

Still, nothing.

“You’ve gotta help me out here, Krios,” she said as she forced herself to sit up. “You’ve gotta let me know I can trust you.”

And still, not a word.

She finally began to wonder.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unfortunate wake up call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lengthy hiatus! Just kind of lost steam for a while. Anyway, there's an unofficial playlist to this fic. It's on Spotify under the same name.

The door opened and Thane heard slow, heavy footsteps approach. He opened his eyes to see Michael, kneeling next to Shepard with a blanket, covering her naked, shivering form with it. He stroked hair from her face and she whimpered in her sleep.

“The cruelties our kind must indulge in,” he whispered. “We both should’ve died on that rock, no?”

They had to have known each other on the colony, Thane decided. Shepard just could not remember the man’s face, or maybe he had changed too much. But he knew her; not as if that were too hard. Precious few details about her and her life were secret.

Maybe she liked it that way; he never asked.

“Athema, if you would,” Michael said and Thane felt a hand touch the side of his face. Tender fingers, more matching to his body than Shepard’s.

Her lips came to his and every muscle in his body went rigid. She was not the enemy, but he could easily end her, here and now. It might even make him feel better. But how would Shepard pay for his actions?

Michael had told him obedience was the key to freedom, but he wondered what the cost would be when it was all over.

Athema’s hands roamed his body, ghosting over wounds, one palm against his chest to feel his heartbeat. Shepard had done similar so many times before, even slept with her ear to his chest, as if she were frightened she would wake when there was silence. Those times, spent in her cabin, he often lost himself to her beauty, fingers tangled in her lovely hair.

“I’ve wanted to touch you from the moment I saw you,” she whispered. “So rigid, so poised… I want to watch that all fall apart as you scream my name.”

Thane said nothing, keeping his eyes on her face. She whimpered softly and he had to fight to still himself. She needed him.

Athema kissed his throat as her hands traveled down. She stroked him, her hands made for his body, unlike Shepard’s. He grit his teeth as he tried to resist. Then, Athema slid down and took his cock in her mouth.

Shepard was _clumsy_ when it came to oral affections, but he understood that. She had precious little experience in that regard. And that was _fine_, until it was compared to a woman who knew what she was doing.

The dark blue Drell woman wasted no time in sucking, hard on his cock, her tongue massaging it in ways Shepard never did. He fought back a moan, tensing and arching his back under the eager woman’s attentions. Unfortunately, she was eager to please.

“Take care to be quiet, Sere Krios,” Michael told him. “Unless you want her to wake up to see your cock buried in another woman’s cunt?”

“Michael,” he growled, until he felt Athema pull herself off his cock. He exhaled, only to freeze when she straddled him.

“Breed me, Sere Krios,” Athema whispered as she sank down on his cock. He arched his back, tilting his head back, biting his lip as hard as he could. Her body was made for him; a perfect fit in a tight, inviting woman of the same species.

Shepard was tight, yes, and he enjoyed being in bed with her, but this was different. This filled him with an almost-primal reminder of what sex was _for_. Breeding, mating, procreation.

Athema rode him fast and hard, not even bothering to keep herself quiet. After the days of pain, of suffering, this felt… Deceptively good. His hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into the skin he found there.

Just as he heard Shepard beside him, coughing and groaning. When he tried to turn his head to look, Athema grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. A subtle domination, that had him holding her in place above him.

“Oh, Sere Krios,” she cried out as she started to grind against him, despite his best efforts to keep her still. “You feel so good inside me.”

“Th-Thane?” He could hear her voice. Felt her hand on his arm. And while he’d never been so… Quick, before, it was enough to have him bursting inside the woman grinding on his cock.

“O-oh,” Athema gasped as she leaned forward. “You’re filling my poor womb, Sere Krios.”

“What the hell is going on?” Shepard asked beside him. He squeezed his eyes shut, his chest feeling tight.

“Good morning, Shepard.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard finds out the real identity of Bacchus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I initially wasn't going to give Shepard a first name, but this has run the fuck away from me and what it originally was.

Shepard tried to ignore the sounds of the Drell woman fucking Thane as she glared at Bacchus. She didn’t even want to process her feelings about it. She was only half-certain he wasn’t enjoying it, but when she heard him moan, she wasn’t sure what to believe.

He had carved into her.

Was it possible he was working with Bacchus?

Had she been betrayed?

“You look upset, Shepard,” he said with a smile. “Is there a problem?”

“You better pray I fucking die here,” she growled. “Or I’m burning this whole place to the ground.”

“Such brutality from humanity’s savior,” Bacchus sighed. “Athema, darling, you forgot the aphrodisiac. Then again, he’s such a loyal tool, he didn’t need it, now, did he?”

Shepard felt her heart clench in her chest. _A loyal tool._ Thane… Was it true?

“Ah…” Bacchus grinned. “Look at that _face_, Commander… You look so pained.”

She lunged at him, tackling him to the ground and grabbing his throat as she did. Every muscle in her body hurt, but she didn’t care. She was exhausted and in pain, but none of that fucking mattered.

She’d kill this bastard, and damn the consequences.

“There’s that rage,” Bacchus choked as he reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. “All I’ve wanted from the start of this was to see you in pain.”

“Who the _fuck_ are you?” she shouted. “Give me a straight fucking answer!”

“Oh, you already know exactly who I am,” he said, giving her a bright smile. She tried to deny it when she first saw him, but the color of his eyes, and the shape of his nose. His cheekbones, and that smile. “Don’t you, sister?”

Shepard slammed her fist into the side of his face and screamed, before all the fight seemed to leave her and she collapsed against him. Tears burned at her eyes and her chest heaved as she sobbed. How long had it been? Some twenty years, maybe longer?

“Why are you doing this to me?” she gasped, finally, desperate to not hear Athema and Thane behind her. Desperate to not think about what was happening.

“I suffered, sister,” he said as he stroked her hair. “I went through my trial by fire with those slavers, and came out on top. And do you know what got me through that?”

She looked down at him, at the blue eyes that looked so much like hers, at the scar under his left eye; just a small nick, like he’d been hit with a knife, at the scowl on his lips that looked so unnatural.

“The hope that you’d come back and save me.”

She swallowed hard and hung her head, squeezing her eyes shut.

“You never looked for me, did you?” he asked with a short laugh. “This is the payment for your sins.”

“Michael—“

“You’re a race traitor _whore_ who abandoned her family,” he snapped as his hand found her throat. “You are going to pay your debt, _Emilia._”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael offers a proposition to Thane. A devil's bargain.

“She is teetering on the edge, Sere Krios,” Michael told him as Dr. Crawford examined him. _She is not the only one_. It had been several days since Michael revealed himself to his sister, and in that time, Athema visited frequently. The second time she visited, he tried to fight back.

She promised him that Shepard would pay if he was anything less than obedient.

He had to wonder what he was trading, here. She suffered less from whatever they schemed and planned, but now she couldn’t look at him. Wouldn’t look at him. And that was a fresh agony unlike any other.

Her nightmares became worse, and more frequent, as well. He could hear her whimper in her sleep. When he woke up, her face was covered in tears and sweat. But she wouldn’t dare take comfort from him.

No, not him. Not the man who betrayed her. She never said it, but it was in her eyes.

“Once she breaks, I think I’ll be done with the pair of you,” Michael added. “You two’ve brought in a tidy sum of credits for me, and I believe I did say you could earn freedom through obedience.”

Thane looked at him, his stomach twisting as he saw the twisted smile on the human’s face.

He didn’t like where this was going, and he hadn’t even spoken yet.

_“Truthfully? I think you’ve earned my candor, after all. You’ve performed more than satisfactorily,” he sighs, blue eyes full of exhaustion. Blue eyes like hers. It isn’t hard to put the pieces together now. “I want to watch her break. I want to see her crawl through the mud like I did, with a mouthful of blood, defiled and broken, with no hope.”_

_I try to ask, but I know the answer before he even says it. “I was born on Mindoir, too.”_

_“She’s a god damned hero, and I was some Batarian’s pet,” Michael yells at me, but then regains his composure. Her brother. She mentioned having a brother. “But, I am not wholly unreasonable. Freedom can be acquired.”_

_“I want to watch her break.”_

Thane closed his eyes. Michael laughed and pat his cheek.

“That’s one thing I love about your species, Sere Krios,” he said. “You forget nothing. Tell me, do you think you’ll remember your sins here until your body gives up on you?”

Thane glared at him. Of course he would. Even without his memory, how could he forget the look on her face when he carved into her?

_Hopeful eyes look up at me. Bright. Blue. The color of the ocean. “I_’_m sorry, Shepard,” I tell her, and her expression twists to one of confusion. What are you talking about, she asks me._

_I try to ease the pain with a kiss. I can taste the salt of her sweat, the copper of her blood, and the cool sensation of the blood from the Hanar she bit. Something stirs inside me as I realize why she bit the Hanar. _

_My hand finds her hip, and I press the knife into her skin. She cries out and falls back, away from me. Bright, and afraid. Blue, and betrayed. I look at where the pale skin splits under the pressure of the knife. Clean. Efficient._

_She whispers my name in a shattered voice. I want to apologize. Michael will make me pay for it._

_I carve the symbol of Arashu into her body. My mind is blank to anything else, my hand moving of its own volition after that first cut. She doesn’t fight me off. Why doesn’t she fight me off? Siha._

“Your god of hunters,” Michael hummed. “I wondered what that was. It suits her.”

Thane looked away.

“So, you’ve carved an N7 into her shoulder, severely damaged her hand, and carved the symbol of an alien god into her hip?” Dr. Crawford asked with a short laugh. “Raped by a Hanar, a pair of Krogan, a group of humans, and a Turian… She’s resilient, I have to give her that.”

Thane’s attention snapped to the doctor. He’d only heard about the Hanar incident. It was becoming harder and harder to fight his rage as her list went on.

“Yes, she’s definitely a tough one,” Michael sighed. “Agen’s got her for the moment, so she’s probably got a few new cuts on her when she gets back.”

“Maybe she’s unbreakable.”

“No,” Michael said, smiling at Thane. “Sere Krios here is the missing piece of the puzzle. The final strike.”

“Don’t you think that will be going a bit far?”

“Nonsense,” he said, waving his hand. “If you want your precious _siha_ out of here alive, you’ll break her. I want you to rape her, I want you to use her. I want you to make her think she’s _worthless_. Destroy everything that’s left of the Great Commander Shepard, and we’ll drop the two of you off on Omega with Aria. I’ll see to it myself.”

“I—“

“If you _don’t_,” Michael added. “I’ll just have to do it myself. And, quite frankly, I’ve been looking for a new breeding bitch. Raiders across the galaxy would pay handsomely to fuck that bitch’s cunt. She’s a bit higher in age than I’d prefer for that, so we’d have to give her some added fertility enhancements, but I’m sure Dr. Crawford here would like to perfect her life’s work.”

Michael stepped toward him and caressed the side of his face.

“Have you given up on her, Krios?” he asked, in a tone so similar to the one she used on him when she tried to be seductive. “Or will you do this to spare her?”


End file.
